


it's gonna be forever (or it's gonna go down in flames)

by makemelovely



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Mentioned Lily Evans Potter - Freeform, Minor Lucius Malfoy, Minor Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Private School, Rare Pairings, but she's perfect for the role tho so, jaime king is the only narcissa i can picture tbh, narcissa goes to college while james is in private school but he's 18 so it's legal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 15:16:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14772095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makemelovely/pseuds/makemelovely
Summary: Narcissa Black has never met her soulmate.//or the one where she kisses him because his initials are seared onto her skin, and she'll never be able to escape it.the prequel to you aren't who i was expecting but i suppose you'll do.





	it's gonna be forever (or it's gonna go down in flames)

**Author's Note:**

> prequel to you aren't who i was expecting but i suppose you'll do. u don't have to read that before this but I hope you do. title from blank space by taylor swift

Narcissa Black has never met her soulmate. All she knows is that his initials are JP and he’s seriously confident, perhaps bordering on arrogant. The words on her wrist read  _ Yeah, but I guess you could also call me the man of your hot, hot dreams  _ and Narcissa spent years covering it up. It had come when she was eleven years old, as they all do, and her mother had spent hours carefully explaining that sometimes men felt it was okay to objective woman and sometimes they were super smug and obnoxious but he was her soulmate so it was all fine and dandy. Narcissa hadn’t understood, not really, until Andromeda explained it to her.

 

“Cissy, come up here.” Andromeda whispered that night, flicking her lamp on and patting her pale pink sheets. Each of the sisters had color coded sheets. Bella had purple, but she wished they were darker, and Narcissa had blue. That’s why blue is her favorite color; it’s familiar.

 

Narcissa climbs up to Andromeda’s bed, scrambling in like a puppy and curling up in her sister’s warmth. “Andy,” Narcissa whispers in the safety of their spacious but somehow crowded and warm room. “What do my words mean?” She asks, gently brushing her thumb along the words that are surely imprinted down to her bones.

 

Andromeda swallows, wraps an arm around Narcissa’s shoulders and squeezes. “Sometimes, Cissy, boys think they own us. They think that because we exist we should like them, but that isn’t always the case. It doesn’t matter if he’s your soulmate, Cis, if he makes you feel bad then you fucking deck him.” Andromeda says darkly, but Narcissa doesn’t understand what she means. She’s young, and innocent, and naive. She doesn’t know that soulmates don’t equate perfection. Sometimes it’s the ugliest person destroying the softest. Sometimes it’s an ugly act, and nothing ever changes because  _ soulmates can’t hurt other soulmates, obviously _ .

 

“Okay.” Narcissa says instead, curling her fingers around Andromeda’s. She just holds them, and she turns the lamp off when Andromeda asks her to, voice soft and sleepy. They sleep in the same bed that night, something they haven’t done since Narcissa was seven. Andromeda wakes her up before bed checks in the morning though, verbally pushes her to get to her own bed. For some reason their parents don’t want them staying in the same bed.  _ Maybe they’ll get too close and learn to defy us _ , they never hear their parents whisper.

 

Narcissa lays in her cold bed, fingers clutching her blue bed sheets tightly, and she wonders who her soulmate is. Will she like him? Does it even matter?

 

_ Probably not _ , she decides,  _ because soulmates are always together _ .  _ They can’t  _ not _ be _ .

 

In the morning their parents tell Narcissa that she’s going to private school.  _ It’s tradition _ , Bella insists, something wicked in her dark eyes. That’s the Black family tradition. Soulmarks and private school and cold halls that don’t feel like home.

 

Except they don’t want you to know that last part.

 

* * *

 

 

Narcissa goes to private school and meets Lucius Malfoy, and he’s not horribly bad looking. Snobby and insensitive, yes, but, well, he’s there. Plus it makes her parents happy, and it appears they’ve forgotten her initials don’t align with his. Andromeda hasn’t, though.

 

“He’s not your soulmate, Cissy.” Andromeda hisses in her ear, fingers clamped around her wrist as they walk through Slytherin Hall to get their dorm. They live in Slytherin Hall which is named after one of the founders Salazar Slytherin. A strange name for a strange fellow. “He’s a giant douche so I don’t know why you’d want to stay with him.” She nags, flinging open the door and entering the emerald living room.

 

Narcissa rolls her eyes and heads for the spiral staircase leading to the dorm rooms, black skirt swishing over her pale thighs. “Mom likes him.” Narcissa says, shrugging a delicate shoulder as if that’s all that matters in her relationship. It’s kind of terrible that it actually does.

 

“Mom doesn’t matter!” Andromeda protests fiercely, taking her sister’s wrist.

 

Narcissa jerks away, wrenching her arm away from the dark haired girl. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Narcissa scowls, gingerly rubbing her reddening wrist. “My life is none of your business.” Narcissa complains angrily, pale cheeks flushed red.

 

Andromeda swallows roughly, and tears brim bright in her dark eyes. “Yeah, whatever,  _ Narcissa.  _ Don't say I didn't warn you.” Andromeda mumbles, tears spilling down her pale cheeks. She scrubbed at them roughly, as if she was trying to assault her skin. Narcissa pretends she doesn't feel the sharp sting of pain and regret in her chest, figures she’s better off ignoring it.

 

* * *

 

 

Narcissa graduates her high school with honors and a boyfriend. She smiles brightly in all her pictures, though when they’re hanging on the wall in frames she can't help but notice that her shoulders are stiff. Nobody else notices, but Narcissa privately thinks Andromeda would notice. She goes to college, and forgets that she was even in school during the time of her estranged cousin Sirius Black. They just never crossed paths, it seems.

 

Oh well.

 

* * *

 

 

James Potter is a senior in high school when his best mate’s older cousin stops by. She’s dressed in leather shorts that fall to her upper thigh to allow her deliciously long legs to be on display. They’re high waisted, and she wears a striped crop top that reveals a strip of her pale, toned stomach.

 

She stalks across the yard with oversized black sunglasses sliding down her small nose and wedge sandals, silvery blonde hair glowing in the sunlight. Her lips are pressed thinly together, and she’s wearing shiny lip gloss that James can't help but stare at.

 

“Mate,” James murmurs, nudging Sirius’s ribs. “Who is that?” He nods his head in her direction.

 

Sirius’s eyes narrow, mouth curling in contempt. “That’s my cousin Narcissa. Bloody awful bitch. Conceited, arrogant,  _ elitist _ . Lousy, the whole lot of them.” He tells James, glaring at the girl’s back as she disappears inside, hips swaying alluringly. “Why?” Sirius asks suddenly, running a hand through his curly black hair.

 

“Thought I saw her at school, s’all.” James lies, pushing his glasses up his nose.

 

* * *

 

 

Narcissa is leaning against the kitchen counter when James wanders in, mouth wrapped around a blue popsicle. “You’re Sirius’s friend, Something Potter, right?” She asks, frowning at him.

 

All James can see is the blue of her tongue. “Yeah, but I guess you could also call me the man of your hot, hot dreams.” He replies instantly, before the realization sets in. “You’re my soulmate! Here, look-” James shows her his wrist. “NB.”

 

Narcissa nods faintly, a buzzing feeling gliding through her veins. She feels dizzy, and lightheaded, like she might pass out. “Crazy.” She hears herself say, and then she makes the mistake of meeting his intense hazel eyes.

 

He smiles at her, smug and undeniably gorgeous. His messy dark hair is tousled purposefully, and his brown skin looks delicious with the sunlight streaming through the window. “Well,” he saunters forward, plucking her popsicle from her long fingers. “I suppose I must get back to the lads, yeah?”

 

Narcissa pauses for a moment. She’s got a choice to make. “Not with my popsicle.” Narcissa leans forward, lips an inch away from Potter’s.

 

His smirk turns downright lecherous, and Narcissa  _ despises  _ the shiver it sends down her spine. “What’ll you give me for it?” He asks, ignoring the melting popsicle as it drips down his hand. This is  _ far  _ more important.

 

Narcissa’s eyes drift down to his lips, and she lunges. She launches herself at him, flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him silly. She stands on her toes, mouth moving fiercely against his. She tastes like blue popsicle which makes a lot of sense, James thinks awkwardly. He tastes like whiskey, and Narcissa pulls away with a taunting smirk.

 

“Whiskey at nine in the morning, James, really?” She teases, mouth dropping open like she’s been surprised. A long moan falls from her lips, and she clutches at James’s t-shirt desperately.

 

“It’s five o’clock somewhere.” James counters, detaching his lips from Narcissa’s neck only to return to the purple bruise he’s sucking into her skin.

 

“That’ll show.” She warns, gasping in a breath as he sucks harder.

 

“Like I give a fuck.” James grins at her, slow and leisurely and it makes her warm all the way to her toes.

 

Narcissa grabs his face, pulls him back up to her lips. “ _ I  _ give a fuck.”

 

James rolls his eyes, but he never strays back down to her neck.

 

* * *

 

 

A week later they have sex for the first time. James kisses her passionately, her back pressed against the door after he shut it by pressing her up against it. Narcissa laughs into his kiss, grins even as he makes her knees weak with his wickedly talented tongue. He carefully pushes her crimson dress up over her waist, and his fingers dive into her underwear. Narcissa sighs against the dip between his neck and shoulders, presses kisses against it like she’s planting flowers.

 

After, they lay in bed. Narcissa traces patterns on his bare chest. She’s laying on her side, and carefully watching his expression. James is almost asleep, lulled by the soothing motions of her fingers and the gentle weight of her gaze. “Are you sure I can stay the night? None of your little gang will sweep in on us unexpectedly?” She asks suddenly, eager to know.

 

“Yeah, I told them I’d be getting laid and I’d let them know when the deed was done.” James mumbles sleepily, scrubbing a hand down his face.

 

Narcissa wrinkles her nose. “Gross.” A beat of silence, and then she wraps her arm around his waist and leans her head on his shoulder. “Good.” She exhales, a puff of warm air against his collarbone.

 

James smiles to himself. “I love you.” He says without thinking. His heart ceases in his chest, his blood turning to ice as he involuntarily tightens his grip of Narcissa’s waist.

 

She hums quietly. “Love you too.” Then she falls asleep, and James grins at the warmth pulsing from his heart. He loves this girl, honestly and purely.

 

* * *

 

 

James reads about her engagement in the paper. It’s on the front page of the goddamn newspaper.  _ Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy: the engagement of the year.  _ James chokes a bit on his tea, feels it spill down the front of his shirt and scald his skin red. He doesn't feel it, too busy smarting over Narcissa’s sting.

 

“Cissy,” he says when he enters the bedroom. She looks lovely leaning in front of the mirror, carefully applying dark red lipstick. Her eyes flick up to meet his, and her eyebrow twitches in acknowledgment. “Are you marrying Lucius Malfoy?”

 

She takes her time to do her lipstick, hand steady as always. She finishes and smacks her lips together, checking her white teeth for red stains as she answers. “He must’ve asked Mom and she said yes for me and he told his own Mom, and, well, that’s that, I suppose.” Narcissa lies cleanly, a smile playing on her lips as she thinks of the lovely dinner Lucius planned. The ring was absolutely gorgeous. How could she have said no? She meets his eyes in the mirror, and her smile darts across her face. “I’ll see you later, darling.”

 

She throws him a sweet smile, subdued for a socialite. James hates that he thinks  _ Shark!  _ when she looks at him. It reminds him of the moments before a robber fires a gun, and you’re looking into the barrel and then there’s a bang and somebody swipes the pearls from your neck and snatches your wallet.

 

* * *

 

 

Narcissa gets married in May, and she doesn't mention it to James. It doesn't concern him. She wears white, and kisses Lucius carefully so her lipstick doesn't smudge. She’s got to see James later.

 

* * *

 

 

“Fucking hell.” Sirius groans under his breath, climbing into the tent beside James and Lily. Lily is absolutely shit-faced. Or she was because now she’s passed out, nuzzled into James’s side and breathing steadily.

 

“What?” James asks, half paying attention.

 

“Narcissa got married today.”

 

A bomb drops to the earth, and rattles all the bones in James Potter’s body. “What?” He asks quietly, body still.

 

“She got married to that dick Malfoy who nobody fucking likes except for her bloody parents.” Sirius complains, oblivious to the inner turmoil James is facing.

 

“I’ve got to go.” James interrupts, already halfway out of the tent.

 

“Rude. Some fucking friend.” Sirius whines bitterly, curling up into a ball beside Lily.

 

“You have no idea.” James whispers outside of the tent.

 

* * *

 

 

There’s a knock on the door. James swings it open, bleary and oddly hungry. Narcissa stands there, dressed in jeans and a shirt that couldn't possibly be hers. It’s too big, and it looks like Narcissa is drowning in fabric. “James-” he reaches out and grabs her wrist, pulling her inside.

 

“You’re married?!” He explodes, heart flinching at the wince that confirms it all. “Fuck, Narcissa. Why?” He demands, dropping his hands to his side.

 

Narcissa shrugs a shoulder, appearing unbothered but James can see the tears in her eyes. “I had to.”

 

“Bullshit.” James sneers, anger pulsing along with the beat of his heart.

 

“I had no choice!” Narcissa snaps, momentarily losing her cool demeanor. She takes a breath, adjusts her pale blonde hair. “I had no choice.” She repeats, much quieter and more in control of her emotions.

 

“You’ve  _ always  _ had a choice, Narcissa. Jesus Christ, there’s no possible world where you didn't have a choice. You make your own fucking decisions. Take responsibility for yourself for once in your fucking miserable goddamn life.” James seethes, hating the tears hanging onto her eyelashes. She refuses to let them fall because it’d ruin her makeup.

 

“You really think that?” She finds herself asking. She meets his gaze, and wonders if they ever had a chance.

 

He looks at her for a long time before he answers. “What else could I think?” His voice is weary, and resigned.

 

Narcissa nods, lips pressed together to curb the urge to bite and smudge the color onto her pristine white teeth. “Yeah, okay.”

 

She walks forward, and kisses him firmly on the cheek. She inhales his aftershave, and thinks about how in love she still is. He draws breath in sharply, and tries to memorize the scent of her perfume. She pulls away, and walks out the door. She doesn't look back.

 

James watches her go, tears dripping down his cheeks. He touches the lipstick mark on his cheek, and tries not to sob as it rubs off.


End file.
